Gift Wrap
by Lady Angel
Summary: Slash Alert! Leia throws Luke a birthday party, but the private one is more fun


Title: Gift-Wrap   
Author: Angel   
Email: valarltd@hotmail.com 

Rating: R for lots of m/m foreplay 

Summary: Leia throws Luke a public birthday party, but the   
private one is more fun. 

Spoilers: Post RoJ, no profic 

Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They are property of Lucasfilm,   
and I promise to give them back.   
Distribution: Any and all. You want it, you got it, just ask.   
Feedback: The voices will dance in your honor.   
Author's note: Inspired by the Q&A thread and a stupid filk of Greensleeves 

*****   
Gift-wrap   
c 2000 Angelia Sparrow   
*****   
*****   
Obligatory Opening Quote: 

Men, Men may I never lack   
I like the front and I like the back   
Tights, tights are just gift wrap   
And I love to open presents   
***** 

"I ain't goin'!" Han announced for the third time in an hour. Agitated, he   
slipped back into the rougher dialect of his smuggling days. The echo   
reverberated down the long polished hall of their house. "This is a stupid   
idea." 

"Humor me," came the response from a room down the hall. 

"Wasn't your stupid idea, kid. It was your sister's." He flopped onto the   
couch with an air of resignation. 

"So Leia decided to throw me a birthday party. Well, throw us a birthday   
party. It'll be fun. I haven't had one since I was ten. Not a real one."   
Luke still hadn't come out of the 'fresher, but continued anyway. Han,   
tired of yelling through the house, wandered down the hall to lean in the   
doorway. "You never saw the farm house on Tatooine," Luke said. "You know   
what one looks like?" Han grunted an affirmative. "Now imagine eleven kids   
chasing through the courtyard, startling the droids, and shaking the   
vaporater. Aunt Beru was a saint about it." 

"But it's still a stupid idea. I was planning a quiet evening, dinner   
someplace fancy, and maybe a few gifts. Your sister's whim upset my plans." 

"And we know how wise it is to refuse Leia's whims, don't we? Is it my   
fault our birthday falls on the Coruscant New Year?" 

"No, but--" 

"And is it my fault Leia decreed we'd celebrate it the old fashioned way?" 

"No, but--" 

"And if you say 'but' one more time, I'll be kicking yours until you go get   
dressed!" The smaller man stood toe to toe with his lover, a mock scowl on   
his face. 

"Don't tease, or we'll never make the party." Han kissed the pouty lips   
that were so close to his own, being careful not to smudge the carefully   
painted face and fled down the hall to their room. 

"Now who's teasing?" Luke, finally satisfied with his appearance, followed   
him. 

In the bedroom, Han was slipping on the unfamiliar garments. "I still don't   
get why she decided on a costume party. And why did I let you choose this?" 

"She said she was tired of seeing us in black all the time. And masked   
balls are a very old Coruscant tradition. You look utterly dashing, my   
love." Luke stretched up to kiss him lightly. 

"And you look ridiculous. But if you were any hotter, we wouldn't be making   
it out the door. Shall we see what her worshipfulness has cooked up for   
everyone else?" 

On the small hall table, lay the masks they had chosen. Luke tied the   
burgundy velvet scarf around Han's head and helped him adjust it so the   
eyeholes were comfortable, and topped it off with a wide brimmed black hat,   
with one side pinned up and full of burgundy and white feathers. He picked   
up the small white leather domino on a stick that was his, and slipped the   
loop around his wrist. Han handed him the floor-length, electric blue   
thermo-silk cape, and slung on the synthvelvet roqulaire that came with his   
own costume. As a final touch, he pulled on the wide cuffed, embroidered   
black leather gauntlets, and arranged the lace of his shirt cuffs around   
them. 

Luke was opening the door, when he found his back pressed to the frame and   
his mouth being plundered. He relaxed into the kiss, and arched into the   
gloved hands stroking his bare chest and toying with the crossed straps of   
gold-chased blue leather. Finally allowed up for air, he checked his   
face-paint in the hall mirror. 

"If we don't leave now, we're gonna find out just how hard this codpiece is   
to unlace," Han said in his ear, setting the jewelry there dangling. Luke   
slipped out the door as quickly as he could, and into the waiting skimmer. 

Leia, resplendent in red gown and towering headdress, greeted them warmly as   
they came in. They were a bit late, but not the last to arrive. Then she   
took in the costumes. 

"Whose idea was this?" she demanded. 

"His," they both pointed at the other. 

"What possessed you to dress as a Finarian temple prostitute?" She took in   
the blue harness, with the nearly inadequate pouch barely covering   
proprieties, the low blue boots, and the elaborate gold and blue swirls   
painted on her brother's face. It did set off his eyes, she had to admit.   
"And how could you let him? I thought you were the jealous type." 

"Ah, it's just a costume. Now if he was actually working in the Temple of   
Finar, then I'd be jealous." 

"No, you'd be the first in line," came the Princess' tart response. "Was   
this his idea too?" She took in the velvet mask, the gathered lace at the   
neck and collar of the under-shirt, the extravagant folds and swoops of   
burgundy velvet that terminated at the top of his hips. The white and   
burgundy striped codpiece set off the white leg and the burgundy leg of the   
tights he wore under the high polished boots. "A Lovrian highwayman? And   
how much padding did he add?" she added, casting a critical eye on the   
bulges under the stripes. 

"Nice!" 

Luke drew his lover away before the ongoing, if not unkind quarrel could   
continue. "Let's dance." He tossed over his shoulder as they left, "Oh,   
it's all real." 

The dance floor was a-swirl with couples and groups gyrating to the heavy   
rhythm popular for dancing. A few half-familiar faces turned up in the most   
bizarre attire. Surely the revered Dodonna, bouncing slightly out of time   
to the rhythm, should have had better taste than to show up as a Traviganian   
Satyr, and his partner, Mon Mothma, had done up as a chromo-wing flyer from   
Ruur. Lando had, of course, dressed very flashily, but with only a red   
half-mask as an attempt at hiding his features. Three women sat with him,   
listening to his stories, all human, although one was costumed as a Twi'Lek.   
Surprisingly, Wedge made a pretty fair Jedi, even if the lightsaber was no   
more than a tarted up flashlight. 

The rhythm gave way to jizz, and Luke dragged Han forcibly toward the punch   
bowl. As they both drank, he recognized the tune and gave his lover a big   
innocent grin. 

"Sound familiar?" 

"All jizz sounds alike to me. I hate the stuff.:" 

Luke's grin spread even more. "It's the Modal Nodes. The same song that   
was playing when we met back on Tatooine. Took me most of the trip to get   
it out of my head." 

"I never knew you liked jizz wailers." The music finally changed to   
something slow and melodic. "This is more my taste. You wanted to dance,   
let's dance." He swept the younger man into his arms and propelled him   
around the floor slowly and gracefully. He gave a firm enough lead that   
there was no confusion. 

At least until the music changed and a pair of high level female pilots cut   
in. Luke, unaccustomed to leading, found he enjoyed it. Being the taller   
partner intrigued him, and he spent almost two hours on the floor,   
partnering anyone who asked. He didn't notice that Han had retired to a   
small couch after about half an hour until he was deep in conversation with   
Leia. 

"It's good to see Luke looking so happy," she commented. "Does he still have   
nightmares?" 

Han nodded. "Not as often. The last batch was about a month ago. You   
remember negotiating with the fuzzballs that insisted on calling you 'Lady   
Vader?' Same thing with the Gu and him. He took it hard." 

"We cannot help who our father was. I just fear his shadow will hang over   
all we are trying to build. I know Luke fears becoming like him. As Luke   
is so fond of reminding us, fear is the path to the Dark Side." She spoke   
to Han, but her eyes followed her brother, propelling an adoring lieutenant   
through an old-fashioned slidestep. 

"It's that right hand that usually worries him. He'll wake up, and go and   
sit, watching the traffic and rubbing that hand. He won't come back to bed,   
and he doesn't sleep again until his body demands it. I'm glad I'm the one   
wearing gloves tonight. I don't think he's even aware of the fact he wears   
them constantly after a nightmare. Sleeps in them, even, like he can't   
stand to touch anything. But, hey," he lifted her chin to look at him, "I   
didn't want to depress you on your birthday." 

She smiled at that. "Do I get a birthday kiss, too?" 

"From both of us," he promised, his own lopsided smile surfacing, only to   
vanish as he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, 

"Are you okay?" she asked. 

"Gettin' old. Leftover present from my father-in-law. Gets too late and my   
eyes start goin'. Double vision, blurs then nothing." 

"That's why you don't fly much anymore." The suddenness of the revelation   
startled Leia. She realized Han was seldom to be found on his beloved ship,   
only flying the missions she requested of him, and never alone.   
"Hibernation?" 

"What else? Here we go again, on depressing subjects. Let me tell you the   
joke I heard making the rounds of the officers' mess. I know you don't hear   
much up in the Senate chambers." 

Luke watched his sister and his lover, not trusting himself to not be   
jealous. When Leia laughed at something Han said, he scowled, even though   
he suspected they were only talking about him. No reason to let them have all   
the fun. Their history was just that, history. It was unworthy of him to   
even suspect otherwise. When the dance ended, he excused himself from the   
floor, picked up three cups of punch and made his way to the couch. 

"Hey, Leia, where's the cake?" he asked, forcing the humor into his voice. 

"Coming in about half an hour." 

"C'mon, kid, I promised Little Sister here birthday kisses from both of us.   
How old are you?" 

"Twenty-six, and you know it, you pirate." 

"So you plant thirteen on the right and I get thirteen on the left." 

"But I'm only twenty-four," protested Leia. "Alderaan had a longer   
planetary year than Tatooine." Her brother's lips brushed her cheek,   
followed by his lover's on the other side.   
"On second thought, what's a couple years between friends?" Her entire face   
tingled by the time they were done. 

"Have I told you how much I like your dress?" Luke asked. 

"That reminds me," Leia said, handing him a holocube. "Happy birthday.   
This is your present." She activated it in the portable reader she took   
from an inner pocket. The holo of a very young woman, almost still a girl,   
wearing the same dress, appeared. It changed as it rotated, showing her at   
different ages, sometimes with a teen-age boy. "It's Mother. You asked   
about her once. I cast around among the Alderaanian expatriates and found   
some records. I compiled it for you." 

Luke froze the holo of her looking adoringly up at a young blond man in pale   
clothes and a tan cloak, a lightsaber on his belt.. "That's Father too,   
isn't it?" Leia nodded, not really trusting her words. Luke hugged her.   
"Thank you. Han, you've got a pocket. Hold this till we get home, would   
you? I want to know it's safe." He handed the cube over, and Han stowed it   
in the deep pocket of one sleeve. He rummaged in the other, and brought out   
a flat box, which he handed to Luke. 

"This is for you. Happy birthday." 

Leia opened the box. "It's beautiful! You carved it yourself, didn't you?"   
In the box, made from a fragment of wood from one of Endor's mighty trees   
was a highly polished triskelion on a slender chain. 

"I did. I'm glad you like it." 

"Thank you." She turned her back and held it up. "Help me with the clasp?"   
The carving lay just below the hollow of her throat. 

They sat in silence and watched the guests dance for a while. A small bell   
sounded and Leia hugged them both before rising to oversee the delivery of   
the food. She unobtrusively left the holoplayer. Han picked it up and   
brought out the cube. He said nothing, but held them out to Luke. 

Luke moved closer to him, and put the cube in the player. He relaxed a   
little when Han's arm went around him. Silently, they watched the three   
dozen images that Leia had collected. Luke froze it again at the image of   
his parents, and looked closely. 

Han made a mental comparison between the man in the holo and the one in his   
arms. Definite height difference, but the same blond hair and blue eyes.   
Same cleft chin. He didn't say anything, and the line of thought began to   
disturb him. He knew it would disturb Luke, who was already fearful of   
becoming his father. 

Threepio appeared at their elbow. "Master Luke, Captain Solo, the Princess   
sends the cake with her compliments, and regrets her duties have called her   
away from the party for the moment. She asks if you would be so good as to   
play host until she returns?" He offered the tray he carried. Large slices   
of cake, in a variety of flavors, were arranged on good plates. Luke,   
indulging his sweet-tooth, took a pale green Kashyyk canopyberry slice and a   
rich-looking Coruscant Decadence piece. Han opted for a flourescent yellow   
cloudfruit piece. 

"Keep eating like this, kid, and you won't be able to wear costumes like   
that anymore," Han teased, as Luke forked a bite of the dark brown slice   
toward his mouth. Halfway there, he changed its course, and moved it up to   
hover in front of Han's mouth. 

"And explain to me why that would be a problem?" he asked as Han took the   
proffered bite. "Your eyes are as green as Mon Mothma's wings tonight. If   
you have a problem with me dancing with the ladies, you should be on the   
floor instead of getting cozy with my sister." 

Han nearly choked on the cake as that slipped out. "What?" he sputtered.   
"We were talking about you!" 

The cool screens slammed down over Luke's face, warding off a fight while   
looking extremely bizarre with his costume. "We will discuss this at home."   
They finished the cake without looking at each other. "We can dance some   
more, or we can leave early. Your choice." 

"Luke, my darling, it is your birthday and your choice," came the soft   
reply, accompanied by strong arms in soft velvet enfolding him. 

The endearment, so rare from his lover, startled Luke. "I'd like to stay,"   
he said softly. "I'd like to dance, and enjoy myself. Shall we dance?" 

A lilting female voice over a merry, bouncy tune had begun, and they joined   
into the lively dance. Through the slow pavane, through the circle dances   
and the lines, they danced. Then, as they paired back up for a slow Three   
Step, the first trouble emerged. 

"You're leading again, Luke." 

"So follow." 

Han held his tongue and tried to follow, but his own training kept getting   
in the way. What should have been pleasant was turning into a small battle   
of control. Finally, the song ended. 

"Can we go? Everything's goin' blurry." 

"Oh! Of course. Let me find Leia and we'll make our goodbyes." 

She had returned, and Luke found her near the door. "Han's ready to leave,   
so we're off. Thank you. For everything." She noticed how close the   
Corellian was staying, and that his hand never left Luke. Leia hugged her   
brother, and then Han. 

"Take care of each other." She touched the triskelion. "And thank you,." 

Luke piloted the skimmer home, as Han sat beside him with closed eyes. Once   
inside, Han stripped off the hat, mask, gloves and boots, set the holocube   
too carefully on the hall table, and lay down on the bed. 

Luke slipped out of the costume and washed off the paint before coming to   
sit on the bed wrapped in a soft tan robe. "You can quit faking now." 

"What?" 

"You're not blurry. You're well past that. You were at blurry when we   
started dancing. Why do you think I was leading? You couldn't see the   
other dancers." He untied the collar and sleeves of Han's shirt, and   
stripped it off of him. "And you know the med-droid's orders." 

"I know, I know, at the first blurring go someplace dark, and rest or sleep   
if possible. And report in to the med-unit as soon as possible." Luke   
winced at the nagging sing-song in which Han recited the directions. 

"Now, you're going to have a nice shower, and then you're going to bed." 

"Dammit kid, I'm not an invalid or an infant." Han pulled away and gained   
his feet, only to feel Luke's hands come around him from behind and a soft   
kiss on the back of his shoulder. 

"Or maybe I should have said, I'll finish unwrapping my presents and _we'll_   
have a nice shower..." He trailed his tongue over the taller man's shoulder   
blade as his fingers untied the laces of the codpiece. "Can you see   
anything?" he asked, sliding the tights to the floor, and helping his lover   
step out of them. 

"The lights are on, and the big things like the bed." Han made his way   
toward the 'fresher, Luke never letting go of him. 

"Close your eyes. Sit. I'll run the water," Luke ordered. 

"Listen, about the leading thing. Sorry that got ugly." 

"No, it didn't. Were you and Leia really talking about me? What made her   
laugh?" 

"Dumb joke. I was trying to change the subject from your nightmares and my   
eyes. I don't think it worked." 

"Water's ready, love." 

Han slipped under the stream, enjoying the way Luke had gotten it just   
right, as always. He felt a wet body press next to his, and smiled before   
sweeping his lover into a kiss. 

"Mmm, bed later," Luke said, beginning to lather them with the soap. "I   
don't care for sex in the shower, remember?" 

"I remember." Han kissed him again. 

"Wash your hair or not?" 

"Not. I hate going to bed with wet hair." He bent his head to lick the hot   
water from his lover's cheeks. "Here it is your birthday, and you're taking   
care of me." 

Luke kissed him hard. "Do you hear me complaining? Come on out, the   
water's going cold." 

"Remind me to install a bigger water heater tomorrow." 

They toweled each other off, and luxuriated in the heated room before   
returning to the rest of the house. As Han buried his face in Luke's hair,   
kissing behind his ears, Luke said gravely, "The only thing you are doing   
tomorrow is going to the med-center and being checked over. If Two- Onebee   
says you need a trip to the bacta tank, you're going, and no excuses this   
time." He turned around and caught his lover's face with his hands,   
bringing it to him until their foreheads and noses touched. "I love you,   
and I want you well. If you keep this up, you won't be able to fly at all.   
And a grounded Han Solo can't be a pleasant person." 

"You're determined to get me into that red slime, aren't you? All right,   
I'll go tomorrow morning." 

"Come to bed. I want to enjoy what's left of my birthday by making love to   
you." 

"Hey, what about the resting in the dark like the med-droid ordered?" 

"We can rest in the dark. Afterward." 


End file.
